


Dirty Laundry

by vivilove



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: And Fold, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fluff, Hook-Up, Laundry, Panty Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 11:51:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9383717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivilove/pseuds/vivilove
Summary: Sansa has an appointment in her apartment building's laundry room with her handsome neighbor on Saturday nights.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amymel86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/gifts).



> Purely some smutty, kinky fun.
> 
> Thinking of you at home with the little ones, Amy, and all the late night loads of laundry I did when mine were babies. Of course, that was never hot in any way, so I invented some hotness...at least I hope it's hot.

“Did you lock the door?” she asks before lifting her skirt.

“Yeah. You sure you want this?” he asks with that serious, broody-face she can’t resist.

He always asks, every time, and somehow that makes her feel safe. _Am I crazy to think this is safe? He does make me feel safe though_. She can feel the tip of his cock slowly brushing against her dripping wet pussy…he’s testing, teasing her. She stifles the moan of want that nearly tears its way from her throat.

“Yes, I want it. I want you, Jon,” she says looking over her shoulder into his eyes.

He smiles then as he grasps her hips and slowly works his way in, thrust by thrust, making her whimper with longing whenever he retracts a bit and moan aloud when he drives in deeper. Once he is fully inside, he lets out a rumbling groan as she envelopes him in her heat.

“Fuck…you are so fucking hot and tight. I want to stay buried inside of you forever, Sansa.”

Sansa is bent over the currently unused washing machine in their apartment building’s small laundry room with a throw pillow between her belly and the edge of the machine. She grips the control panel of the washer as he rocks against her ass. She’s worn a skirt and no panties on purpose tonight. And she’d been so wet walking down the stairs to the basement where the laundry room is, thinking about what they would be doing, she could feel the slipperiness wetness clinging to her thighs with every step. There was no need for panties. Jon just kept stealing them anyway…not that she minded.

He’s picking up his rhythm now, really pounding into her. The hair around his groin brushes against her ass, his balls are smacking up against her mound, her clit, with nearly every thrust now. She gets louder, crying out with pleasure, ready to reach that point of sweet oblivion she’s looked forward to all week.

“Fuck, sweetheart…gods…” he cries as he keeps up his relentless pace, tightening his grip on her hips, occasionally reaching up to squeeze a breast through her tee. There’ll be new bruises on her hips tomorrow and she doesn’t care…not one bit.

She loves the way he calls her ‘sweetheart’ even though they are not anywhere close to that. Fuck buddies is a term that might apply to them except they aren’t exactly buddies either. They don’t hang out…except in the laundry room.

“Mmm…Jon. Oh, gods…I needed this so much,” she moans, knowing he’ll make her come soon and knowing how he loves to hear her talking while he fucks her. Something about this makes her so hot…something about him makes her so hot.

“You did, didn’t you…uunnnhh…sweet girl? You need this…I do, too…fuck…”

“Oh, fuck…fuck…YES!!! Jon…aaahhh…I’m gonna…uunnhh…I’m gonna come!” she shouts as the washing machine in the corner starts agitating through the spin cycle, banging noisily and the dryers are whirling and tumbling away, making the room humid. Not that they notice. They’re already sweating.

“Come for me, sweet Sansa…” he moans as his own climax is building.

 

It had started two months ago when they randomly started doing laundry at the same time.  The unseemly hour of 11:00PM…on Saturday nights, no less. Their hectic school and work schedules coincide it seems leaving this night open for the mundane task of washing their dirty laundry. And, while they certainly aren’t the only people in the universe doing laundry late on Saturday nights, they are the only two people doing it in their small building that holds just twelve apartments.

The first night they’d met up in the laundry room, he was sitting on the worn-out sofa the landlord had left there for tenants to use while they waited for their clothes to finish drying or whatever. He was reading a book and looked up at her with a brief smile and wave before burying his nose back in his book. That first night, Sansa wouldn’t even sit on that nasty, old sofa. But since then…well, Jon had eaten her out on it more times that she could count, burying his nose in her pussy and swearing that her dryer sheets were an aphrodisiac to him. _The things he can do with that tongue_ , she thinks with a smile.

The first couple of weeks, they had made small talk. They had discussed work and school but just the broad strokes, no details. She had thought he was hot. _Well, he is hot…no_ _denying it_. And she had suspected he thought she was hot as well. The sex had a started not long after.

What had actually started it all was her underwear. Sansa likes wearing sexy undies. She dresses demurely most of the time and wearing sexy panties make her feel like she has a dirty but delicious little secret that only she knows. _I definitely have a dirty secret now_. Everyone at work and school thinks she’s a perfect little lady which is fine but she knows there’s more to her than that image. So, she chooses cheekies, g-strings and thongs for her undies. She chooses lace and silk, no cotton. She wears red, magenta, purple and black…never white or baby pink.

They’d started sharing the washer and dryers sometimes. Their loads are rarely that large being as they both live alone. One night, they’d been doing laundry together and chatting when they’d shared the dryer on a load of darks. Jon had gotten their stuff out but, when Sansa got it back up to her apartment to fold the last load, a pair of red, lace cheekies was missing. _Gods…probably got mixed up with his stuff_ , she had thought with embarrassment. When she had asked him, blushing the whole time, about the missing undies the next week though, he denied seeing them. But then her black g-string went missing that night.

The week after that, she had caught him in the act. She was putting her last load in the washer when she turned and saw him slipping her purple thong into his pants pocket. Those hadn’t even been washed yet.

“You’re stealing them?!” she had shouted, angry and more than a bit freaked out as well.

He had looked so sheepish though, so adorably reminiscent of a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. And she already knew she wasn’t afraid of him. He might have a thing for panties but she didn’t think he meant any harm. And, well, maybe she was a little turned on by it, too.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, looking like he was hoping the ground would open up beneath him and swallow him whole.

“So, you have a thing for ladies’ undergarments?” she asked, trying to sound like the good little psyche major that she was.

“No…um, just yours,” he had said, hanging his head.

Why should that have been the catalyst for Sansa to jump her neighbor, Jon, right then and there? Why didn’t she run straight to the landlord’s apartment to get his ass (his perfect ass) evicted right then, screaming as she ran? She didn’t even know his last name at the time. Sansa certainly couldn’t tell you why she did the first thing and not the second but she did. She crossed the room in an instant, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him with a passion usually reserved for impossibly romantic movies, the kind where the soldier comes back from the war to his beloved. And he’d kissed her back at once, pulling her in close before running his fingers through her hair and muttering utter nonsense in her ear about how beautiful she was and how he’d never thought she’d be interested in him.

After that, the Saturday night laundry room hook-ups had begun. While the washer was thumping with their sheets, Jon was humping Sansa on the sofa. While the dryer was blowing hot air on a load of whites, Sansa was blowing Jon in the corner. It was secret…it was hot…it was dirty…it was sex. A release they both apparently needed at the end of the week. They didn’t make plans with each other. They didn’t discuss their love life outside the laundry room, although it was seemed likely that he was as lonely as she was in that department. They didn’t text each other or go out of their way to talk to each other in the hallway but they fucked each other senseless for the two to three hours it took for the laundry to be done each week.

 

“FUCK!!!” he cries out as he comes for the first time tonight. He collapses across her back then and starts kissing her softly on her shoulders. “Sansa…that was so…”

“Hot, right?”

“Gods, yes…I may need a minute,” he pants in her ear.

“Take a minute…take 10. Dryer’s still got that long to go at least.”

“And then?”

“You could put that talented tongue to work on me. I’ll let you decide what we do after that.”

“How much more laundry do you have to do?”

“Loads,” she says with a grin and arched brow before plopping down on the sofa and spreading her legs for him.

He sinks to his knees before her. He tugs off her top and starts kissing and suckling at her breasts, while he fingers her with his cum still inside of her. She’s so wet inside between his cum and her own juices and his fingers slide across her like silk as he circles her clit.

“You didn’t wear any panties for me tonight,” he says with a concerned look.

“Did I need to?”

“No, I was just worried I’d stolen them all.”

“Nah…you can…oh, fuck, Jon…you can…ummm…keep them...” she moans as he’s started pumping his fingers in her while rubbing her clit. “I’ll wear some…ahhh…new ones…uhhh, Jon…for you next week…oh, gods…yes…uunnhh…”

“Oh, good…that’s good, sweetheart,” he mumbles as he licks and nips at her nipples.

Then, he lowers his head to eat her out and make her scream his name while she twists and pulls at his lovely curls.

 

That night when the laundry is done, Sansa looks forlornly at folded clothes. It’s only 12:35AM. Laundry night passed quicker than some weeks and she has another week to get through before they meet here again next week. _I hope._ The past couple of weeks that thought has plagued her when it’s time to leave. _What if this is it? The last time?_ He unlocks the door and looks back at her with a smile. His hair is damp with sweat from the humidity and the…um, activity. Sansa is pretty sure her own hair is a mess and she’s sticky in several places now.

“I need a shower,” she says as she hefts her laundry bag over her shoulder.

“Me, too,” he says as he holds the door for her.

“Want to join me?” she asks. She bites her lip as soon as the words leave her mouth. _I don’t want to push if this is all he wants._ “I mean…only if you…”

“I’d love to take a shower with you, Sansa,” he says with a brighter and hopeful smile. “Maybe you’d even be willing to let me make you breakfast in the morning.”

“Yeah…I’d like that.”

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks…like always, he always asks.

“I’m sure,” she responds, taking his hand in hers.


End file.
